The Preacher's Daughter
by stormy.grace
Summary: An old family friend contacts Sam and Dean when she realizes her life is on the line.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I did something a little different with this story. Instead of latching onto a general idea with a vague plot and posting chapters as I get them written, this time I've written the whole story ahead of posting. Mostly because this one needed a little more planning and it's so short, only seven chapters. I think I knocked it out in about a week.**

 **This story is set in season 3 of Supernatural, partly because I really loved the storyline about Dean's deal and partly because I only just started season 9 this morning, and features several OCs that I had a lot of fun working with. For now I'm just gonna post the first chapter, and see how y'all like it. If you want the rest of it I'll post the other chapters one day at a time simply because I don't feel like posting the whole thing at once even if it is only seven chapters long. Also there's a possibility I might continue the story with a sequel at some point in time. It just depends on you guys and what my brain decides to do.**

 **Another thing that's different about this story is that it's based on a song called "Preacher's Daughter" by Maggie Rose. I've always loved the story in the song and the images it brought to mind, and as I was listening to it the other day I realized it would be a perfect backstory for Dean and Sam to work with. Hopefully I wove the song and my idea together well enough that you guys will enjoy it and stick around until the end.**

 **It's set in Georgia simply because I don't really know much about other states since I've never really spent a lot of time in other states. However, I do not know if Mimosas are common here. I did a little research, but couldn't find the answer quick enough so I gave up. I wanted to stay true to the lyrics of the song, and I figured that it wasn't extremely crucial for that particular detail to be right. But the drinking age in Georgia _was_ twenty-one back in '39, so I feel better about not being 100% certain on the Mimosa thing.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the story. Let me know if you want the rest of it, and check out "Preacher's Daughter" just because it really is an awesome song. ~SG**

Chapter 1

 _Bristol Ridge, Georgia_

 _July 1939_

It was hot, unbearably hot even though the sun had already slipped below the horizon. But that was usually the case with Georgia summers. Hot, sticky, and sweet. The heavy night air was filled with the scent of Mimosa blossoms and the whirring of cicadas, but all Hanna Durant could think about was what was going on inside the cab of Aaron Reeves' Chevy as their lips met once more.

She had just turned twenty last month, not yet old enough to drink, but plenty old enough to sneak out of her father's house to meet up with her boyfriend. Of course, even if she was twenty-one she still wouldn't be allowed to drink. She was the preacher's daughter, and even if she wasn't still living at home she would still have a reputation to uphold. Which is exactly why she had to sneak out of the house after her father had gone to bed to meet Aaron.

There were several reasons why Peter Durant wouldn't approve of what his daughter was currently doing as she slipped the suspenders off Aaron's strong shoulders. It wasn't proper. They weren't married. People would talk. Peter didn't like Aaron.

Unlike Hanna, Aaron had not been born or raised in Bristol Ridge. He wasn't even American. He was English, an orphan from London that had somehow managed to scrape together enough money to get him to New York by working whatever odd jobs he could find. Nothing much had changed once he arrived in New York though. He had still had to take whatever he could find, wherever he could find it, no matter how dirty or deplorable or illegal. He had moved around a lot, jumping from job to job, place to place, sometimes living on the streets with no shelter, no money, and no food, and sometimes running from the law. Hanna knew these things, knew he had been thrown in jail on more than one occasion for more than one reason. She knew he had broken laws and done things a respectable man would never consider doing, but she didn't care. He was a good man, and he only did what he did in order to survive.

Over the years he had worked his way through most of the eastern states, and had somehow ended up finding work at Old Man Jefferson's farm just outside of town, room and board included, which is how Hanna had met him. She had been delivering a pie she had baked and some homemade preserves to Mrs. Jefferson and just happened to run across Aaron while he was taking a short break.

She had politely introduced herself, welcomed him to town, and invited him to church on Sunday. He had told her that he wasn't usually the church-going type, but he appreciated the invitation and it was a pleasure to meet her. She was charmed by his accent and his manners, and he was charmed by her beauty and sweet nature. Despite himself he showed up at the service that Sunday, and they quickly became friends, and lovers soon after.

Peter Durant was forced to admit that Aaron Reeves was a nice enough young man. Hard-working, well-mannered, and every female in town couldn't stop wagging their tongues about him. He was handsome and had an accent and a very interesting story. Hanna was head-over-heels, but Peter was determined to keep them apart. He knew enough about Aaron's background and past to know that he would never be good enough for Hanna. No matter how nice he was. But, of course, Hanna fought him at every turn as young girls do when they're in love, and Peter had no doubt that she was in love.

He knew what love looked like. He'd been there himself. Hanna's mother, Sarah had been his entire world from the moment he had kissed her on a dare when they had been thirteen, and his heart still ached when he thought about her even though she had been gone for seven years now. Maybe that was why he was so protective of Hanna. She was all he had left.

But Hanna, young and in love, didn't care that her father didn't approve of her choice of men or why. All she cared about was that he was being so unfair and not even trying to give Aaron a chance. He had made up his mind and he was standing his ground, but so was Hanna. Nothing could make her give up Aaron. Nothing.

They were parked on the river bank and Hanna's dress was already halfway unbuttoned. Aaron's sweat soaked shirt had been tossed out the window, and she smiled, tilting her head to the side, as he kissed her neck. She didn't care what anyone thought. This was worth whatever rumors the gossipy church ladies came up with and the disapproving looks cast her way at the social. It was worth the constant fights with her father. As far as she was concerned _this_ was Heaven.

Not just the sex, not just being in love, but all of it with Aaron.

Suddenly the bright flash of headlights cut through the night and the sound of the cicadas was joined by the sounds of a car coming to a stop nearby. They'd been caught.

"Aaron, wait." Hanna said breathlessly as she reluctantly pushed him away, her fingers hurriedly fumbling with the buttons of her dress. "Someone's coming."

"I don't care." he said, continuing to kiss her neck.

"We have to stop." she said as footsteps drew nearer. "We have to leave before they see us."

With a groan of protest Aaron complied, moving off of her and sitting up. They scrambled out of the truck and Aaron grabbed his shirt from the ground. As he rushed to pull it on they had just enough time to recognize the face of the man that had discovered them before a single shot split the night, followed immediately by a piercing scream.

%%%

 _Now_

She wore a dress that looked like something out of the thirties and her long, dark brown hair was pinned up in an equally vintage fashion. Strands had pulled loose as if she had been doing something that required a lot of movement. She was young, in her late teens or early twenties, and pretty with her pale skin and light brown eyes. She would have looked sweet had it not been for the angry expression on her face.

Meredith Fairchild wasn't quite sure what to think when she woke up and saw the young woman standing at the foot of her bed. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Why do _you_ deserve to live?" the girl shot back sounding just as angry as she looked. "What gives you the right?"

Meredith sat up, shivering in the too cold air. "Who are you?" she demanded again, staring at the intruder. "What do you want?"

"It was wrong." the girl said. "What he did. He was wrong."

"I'm calling the police." Meredith warned and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand.

But as soon as her fingers touched the phone the girl was gone. Meredith looked around the room, but there was no sign that anyone else was there. Whoever the girl was she had vanished. And the cold had gone with her.

She was a little scared as she got out of bed and searched the house. It was quiet. All electronics were turned off. There was no music coming out of speakers, no canned laughter on late night TV. The lights were all out except for a few small nightlights here and there to protect against stubbed toes. The house was empty except for Meredith, her sister, and her niece. She checked on them, but they were both sound asleep in their beds. She checked the garage, the attic, the yard. Nothing. Everything was exactly as it should be. Hot, humid summer air, the sound of cicadas, the scent of Mimosas and Magnolias. Nothing out of the ordinary. And yet Meredith couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Something had caused her to wake up tonight, and when she had opened her eyes there had been an unfamiliar young woman in her bedroom that seemed to think it wasn't fair that Meredith was alive. And then she had simply disappeared, leaving nothing behind to even hint that she might have been there in the first place except for a memory in Meredith's mind.

As she walked back inside she remembered what her brother had told her just days before he had died.

They said he'd gone crazy. They said he'd been hallucinating. They said he'd committed suicide just like their father. But Meredith had never believed it. Not that she had really believed the story Jason had told her about the girl he had seen either. Until now.

She had never believed that her father and brother had both gone crazy and killed themselves even though there was a rumor that insanity ran in the family, and more often than not led to suicide. But she had had no proof. Now she did, but no one would believe her if she told them. Now she knew someone or something had murdered her father and brother, and it looked like she was next. But if she told anyone what she suspected they would simply tell her that she was going crazy too. Everyone else had. Why should Meredith be any different?

She was afraid to go back to sleep now that she had realized that there was definitely something going on, so she went into the kitchen and began unloading the dishwasher, putting clean dishes back in the cabinets and trying not to panic. It wasn't working very well, but as she was setting a stack of plates back on the proper shelf she remembered something else. Something her father had often told her mother before he had died.

 _If anything ever happens to me..._

"Call John Winchester." she said out loud.

Sharon Fairchild had never done what her husband had asked her to do. Instead she had let her grief turn her into an alcoholic that had killed herself and Meredith's best friend, and nearly Meredith as well, in a car accident five years after Tim Fairchild had supposedly shot himself. Now both of her parents and her brother were dead, and Meredith wasn't about to let herself or the rest of her family be killed as well.

Forgetting the half unloaded dishwasher she ran back up to the attic and dug through boxes until she found her father's old address book. Once she had it she abandoned the attic, not caring about the mess she had made with her life apparently on the line, dashed into her bedroom, and did what her mother never bothered to do all those years ago.

 **Well? What do you think? Should we continue with Chapter 2? ~SG**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've only gotten one review on this story, but I'm posting the rest anyway because I want to. I know I missed posting yesterday, but I got distracted with sleep and hanging out with my aunt and cousin, so here's Chapter 2 now. I'll try my best to post the remaining chapters on a daily basis, but no promises. My brain has a mind of its own. ~SG**

Chapter 2

 _Then_

Peter knocked lightly on his daughter's bedroom door, concerned that she might not be feeling well since she had never come down for breakfast. Hanna was never late unless she was sick. No answer. He knocked again. "Hanna? Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?" Still no answer.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, an apology for the intrusion ready on the tip of his tongue, but the room was empty.

"Hanna?" he called as he stepped inside, his voice tinged with worry. Something wasn't right. Her bed looked like it hadn't been slept in last night.

%%%

 _Savannah, Georgia_

 _Now_

Sam Winchester woke up the same way he always did. In a motel room with classic rock blaring from the clock radio. This morning it was Aerosmith, and the choice to wake up hadn't been his own. His brother, sitting on the next bed and bobbing his head along to "Love in an Elevator" as he pulled his shoes on, had thrown a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face.

"Good morning, sleepy head." Dean said with a teasing older brother smile.

Sam glanced at the window, noting the darkness that still clung outside, and then at the clock. "Dean, it's not even five o'clock yet. Can't we sleep in just once?"

"Trust me." Dean said. "I'd love to sleep for a week, a month, maybe even an entire year, but we can't. We got a job. Get up, get dressed, get packed, let's go."

"Go where?" Sam asked as he reluctantly got out of bed. "What'd you do? Sit up all night searching the internet for leads?"

"No." Dean said, sounding as if that were the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard. "I think you're confusing me with, well...you."

Sam rolled his eyes and disappeared into the bathroom.

Dean raised his voice to be heard. "An old family friend called about an hour ago looking for help with a ghost problem."

"What family friend? We don't have any family friends. We don't have any family, Dean." Sam said, his words muffled by his toothbrush.

"We have Bobby and Jo and Ellen."

"Okay. Well, if Bobby or Jo or Ellen have a ghost problem I'm pretty sure they can handle it themselves."

"Well, it's not Bobby or Jo or Ellen." Dean said. "It's Meredith Fairchild."

"Who the hell is Meredith Fairchild?"

"The little girl that used to live next door."

Sam squinted at his brother in confusion. "Dean...what are you talking about?"

Dean sighed. Apparently his not-so-little little brother wasn't so bright before the sun came up. "There was a family that lived next door to us back in Lawrence. The Fairchilds. Mr. and Mrs. were friends with Mom and Dad, and I used to play with the brother, uh...Jason, I think. Meredith was, like, two. They left town not long after we did, and apparently Jack somehow found out about the hunting because Meredith called looking for Dad and got me instead."

"Jack is Meredith father?"

"You sound unsure of that, Sammy." Dean teased. "How in the hell did you get into college if you can't even figure out that Jack is Meredith's father based on what I just told you?"

Sam didn't respond, simply continued packing his meager possessions and preparing to leave.

"Anyway," Dean continued, stuffing his belongings into his bag. "Seems that Meredith got a little visit last night from a ghost that isn't too happy that she's alive, and she thinks this ghost has been killing her family members off for years."

"And she thinks she's next." Sam guessed.

Dean nodded. "Yep. So, this ghost wakes her up and makes some kind of vague threat or something and poof." He snapped his fingers. "Gone. Apparently her dad used to beg her mom to call our dad if anything ever happened to him, but she didn't, and now both of them and the brother are dead, and it looks like the Ghost of Bristol Ridge Past is out for fresh blood. Meredith remembered Dad telling Mom to call...Dad if anything ever happened to him, so she dug up the number and called."

"So, we're headed to...where?" Sam asked, processing the information a little slower than usual in his sleep deprived brain.

"Bristol Ridge." Dean said. "It's about a six hour drive. You can sleep in the car."

Sam picked up his things, checked one last time to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, and followed his brother out the door.

%%%

 _Then_

Bristol Ridge was in an uproar.

After searching the house and realizing that his daughter was missing Peter had gone straight to the police to report it. He had been surprised when they had immediately began questioning him. Not because his daughter was missing, but because Aaron Reeves' body had been found washed up on the river bank two miles out of town and it was no secret that he had a strong distaste for the young man.

"Look." he insisted. "Yes, it's true I didn't like the kid, but do you really think I'd kill him? I'm a preacher for God's sake!"

"I'm sorry, Pete, but I had to ask." the sheriff said.

"Aaron Reeves wasn't the most upstanding citizen." Peter reminded his friend. "I'm sure he made some enemies. Maybe you should be looking into his past instead of accusing one of your best friends of murder. Especially with my daughter missing. I can almost guarantee you that Hanna snuck out last night to be with him, and whoever killed him probably took her, or...or killed her too."

The sheriff's expression softened and he sighed. "We'll find her, Pete. I promise."

"You're damn right you're gonna find her." Peter replied. "I'm sorry that Aaron's dead, but I can't say I'm too surprised, and if he got my girl killed..." He trailed off, realizing that there was nothing he could do to punish a dead man. "I want my daughter back, Joe."

Joe nodded. "We'll find her, Pete."

Peter knew as he left the sheriff's office that what Joe really meant was that they would find her whether she was dead or alive. He knew very well that he might not get his daughter back in the way he wanted, but he wasn't ready to entertain that possibility yet. She was missing. She had run away or had been taken, but she had to still be alive. He needed to believe that.

Over the course of the next few days everyone in town was questioned. No one had noticed anything suspicious. No one unfamiliar had been lurking around town. The last time anyone clearly remembered seeing Hanna Durant was when she had been leaving church on Sunday in her white dress.

Peter knew for a fact that she had spent the rest of the day cleaning the house and baking while he had been visiting with various parishioners and neighbors. No one had any idea what had happened, but they were all praying for Hanna's safe return and that the police caught whomever had killed Aaron and dumped him in the river. Peter thanked them for their prayers, but it didn't provide any comfort at all.

The same question was floating all over town. What's become of the preacher's daughter?


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank y'all for the reviews! I love waking up to them! Especially with this story because I know exactly how it ends since it's actually finished, and y'all are making guesses and asking questions. I love it! ~SG**

Chapter 3

 _Now_

The house on Marshall Drive looked exactly like what a little Southern house should look like. It was pale yellow with white trim, a tin roof, and a wrap-around porch. Flowering plants hung from hooks between the columns of the porch, and the house was lined with rose bushes. The yard was large and well kept, with an old oak tree out front. The trunk of the tree was surrounded by a flower bed bursting with colorful blooms, and a pair of white Adirondack chairs sat in the shade of its limbs. It even had what was probably a homemade swing, a wooden board suspended by long ropes, hanging from one strong branch. There was a gravel walkway leading from the gravel driveway to the front steps, and the entire property was protected by a white picket fence.

"Wow." Dean said as he parked on the side of the street out front, not bothering to use the driveway around the side of the house. "Why do I feel like I just drove onto the set of a country music video about lemonade and little girls in pigtails and skinny dipping in the creek in the summertime?"

"Maybe because that's exactly what this house looks like." Sam said as he climbed out of the car.

"Definitely doesn't look like the kind of place that would be haunted by a killer Casper." Dean decided as he pushed open the gate and stepped onto the path that lead from the street to the house.

Meredith had been preparing the one and only guest room for the Winchesters when they pulled up outside. She watched through the window as the shiny black Impala parked out front, and couldn't help but be impressed by it. She also couldn't help but be impressed by the two men that got out of it. They were too far away to really make out details, but they were both tall, one very much so, and as far as she could tell they were both handsome.

The doorbell rang shortly after their arrival and she left the guest room to answer the door, greeting her two guests with a grateful and welcoming smile on her face.

She wasn't all that tall, standing at about five and a half feet, but she was in good shape and her teal t-shirt and cut-off shorts showed it. She was barefoot and her long, dark brown hair was pulled away from her pretty, makeup free face in a wavy ponytail. There was a beauty mark on her upper lip and her big, brown eyes sparkled as she smiled, revealing dimples and white teeth.

"Wow." Dean said again, unable to stop himself even as he realized what he was saying. "You sure did grow up nice."

"I'm guessing that makes you Dean." she surmised, making the assumption because Dean was the only one that might remember what she looked like when she had been two. She was still smiling, but now it was more that she was amused by his greeting than relieved that he had come to rescue her. She turned that smile on the taller brother with the longer hair and the baby face. "Which means you must be Sam. I don't remember you being quite so tall."

Sam smiled, chuckling softly. "I don't remember you at all."

"Well, come on in." she said, moving aside so they could enter.

Dean was a little disappointed that she hadn't returned the compliment that he had uttered accidentally, but had meant honestly, but he ignored the slight and politely wiped his shoes on the mat before stepping into her foyer.

"You the only one here?" He asked as they walked into the living room.

Meredith nodded. "Kim's at work, and Rowan's over at a friend's house. I'm a teacher, so I get summers off."

"Kim's your sister, and Rowan's your niece?" Dean asked just to make sure, ignoring the look Sam shot him to remind him of the teasing he had dealt out earlier.

"Yes."

"Kim wasn't around back in the day, was she?"

"No." Meredith confirmed. "She's nearly a year younger than Sam. She was born right after we moved here. Why?"

Dean shrugged. "Just curious."

"You two can catch up later, Dean." Sam said. "We _are_ here for a job, aren't we?"

"Shut up, Sammy."

Meredith snickered quietly and changed the subject, showing them to their room and then providing them with lunch once they were settled. Over the meal she explained everything she knew about what was going on.

"I have no idea who she is, or why she apparently wants me dead." she said. "But I'm pretty sure she's the one that killed my dad and Jason, and I don't want to be her next victim. I don't want my sister or niece to get hurt either."

"You said this apparent suicide thing runs in the family?" Dean asked.

Meredith nodded. "We have several ancestors that supposedly went insane and shot themselves. Some of them claimed to have seen a girl in a white dress a few days before they died. I don't know about Dad, but Jason told me that he had seen her. I didn't believe him, and then a couple days later he was dead. I found both of them."

"That sucks." Dean said bluntly, earning a look from Sam that said he couldn't believe Dean had just said that.

"Dude. Really?"

"No, he's right." Meredith said. "It did suck. Big time. I never believed they did it though."

"What about your mom?" Sam asked.

"She became a drunk after Dad died." Meredith explained. "She picked me and a friend up from school one day about five years later, and was driving us to a movie. She was drunk, but we didn't notice because she had gotten really good at hiding it. Somehow she lost control of the car and drove off a bridge into the creek. She died on impact, my friend died in the ambulance on the way _to_ the hospital, and I almost died _in_ the hospital."

Neither Winchester said anything because neither of them knew what to say.

"We were all still minors, and we ended up in foster care because we didn't have anywhere else to go." Meredith continued. "They separated us, and we all ended up in at least three houses a piece before Jason turned eighteen and managed to get custody of Kim and I. He died ten years ago, and now it's me and Kim and Rowan. And if you guys can't do something about this...ghost it'll be just Kim and Rowan."

She had been looking down at the table, but lifted her eyes as she finished speaking and settled her gaze on the two men across from her, focusing more on Dean because she had known him some when they were kids and he was the one she had talked to last night.

"You don't have anything to worry about, Meredith." Sam assured her. "We've been doing this our whole lives."

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "Ghosts are easy to gank. All we have to do is figure out who she is and where she's buried. Then we just salt and burn her bones and you're good to go."

Her eyes shifted back to Dean. "And if she was cremated instead?"

"Then we find whatever her spirit's connected to and burn it." Dean answered.

"It's just a matter of finding answers." Sam added.

"And that could take a while, right?"

The brothers exchanged a glance and then confirmed that it could take a while to find the information they were looking for. Especially since they didn't know who they were dealing with.

"So, what do we do in the meantime?" she asked.

These last few questions were the first time she had shown that she was even the tiniest bit afraid since they had arrived, and Dean suddenly felt a strong need to make her understand that he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her.

He reached out and laid a comforting hand over her nervous one, a gesture that was more suited to Sam's style than his, but she clearly felt more of a connection to Dean. "In the meantime we stock up on salt, and we don't leave any of you alone until it's safe."

"There's two of you and three of us." she reminded him.

"We got this." Dean promised.

"You just have to trust us." Sam added.

Meredith nodded, but still looked a little freaked out.

Sam, ever the helpful gentleman, offered to clean up the kitchen for her after lunch, and Dean followed Meredith back to the living room where she surprised him with an unexpected but very welcome hug.

"What was that for?" he asked when she let go and stepped back.

"A thank you for coming to help me." she said, looking a little shy for a moment and then smiling. "And it's nice to see you again, Dean."

He smiled back. Did she really remember him from when she was two? "Yeah. It's nice to see you again too."


	4. Chapter 4

**First of all, sorry about skipping posting yesterday. I told you I'm good at getting sidetracked. Secondly, I really know nothing about how tarot cards actually work. I barely have a general knowledge. I'm just following the song here. And as I'm now making progress with season 10 my brain is working hard to come up with a sequel for this, featuring the Fairchild family of course, so let me know if you'd be interested in a reunion once this mess is over. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing and following and favoriting (sp? Is that even a word?) and sharing and whatever else you're doing. You guys rock! ~SG**

Chapter 3

 _Then_

The woman had long, dark hair and a patch over her bad eye. The good one was a shade somewhere between gray and brown and hadn't left Peter since he had walked into her home. Her name was Elva Laroux and she was beautiful in a sharp sort of way. She was rumored to be psychic, the real deal, and Peter was desperate enough that he had gone four hours outside of town to see her.

The fact that he had gone so far wasn't the surprising part, but that he had gone to see a psychic. He could only imagine what everyone would think when word got out around Bristol Ridge, but the police weren't making any headway and he needed answers.

"How can I help you, preacher?" Elva asked.

"I'm hoping you can help me find my daughter." he said.

"Hanna?"

Peter was shocked to hear his daughter's name on this stranger's lips. "H-how...?"

Elva smiled, amused. "I read the paper. Aaron Reeves' murder and your missing daughter are front page news."

"Of course." Peter said. Of course she would know. Not because she was psychic, which he still wasn't convinced on, but because everyone knew. She was right. Hanna and Aaron were the biggest news to hit the area since the market crashed ten years ago. Even in Tennessee. "Can you find my daughter?"

"Preacher, you do understand that I can't just snap my fingers and give you the answers you're looking for?" she asked, reading him correctly. "My gift doesn't work that way. I'll give you what I can, but it may be very vague or it may be nothing."

"I'll take whatever you can give me." Peter assured her. "You're my last hope."

He waited patiently as she drew her tarot cards, wondering if this was all a dead end hoax and a bad idea.

Finally she looked up and said. "I'm sorry, preacher."

"Why?" he demanded, terrified of her answer. "What do they say?"

"She's not coming back, but she hasn't gone far." Elva said cryptically. "The devil's a liar, and he drives a car somewhere in Catahoula County."

"That's it?"

"I told you I may not be of much help." she reminded him.

"What does that mean?"

Elva was saddened for him as she explained in a more understandable way. "I'm sorry, preacher, but you won't be getting your daughter back. Not in the way you want. It's too late. It was always too late."

Peter was certain his heart had actually shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, and he wanted to scream, but instead he remained calm and asked. "What about the rest of it? What does that bit about the Devil mean?"

"The man you're looking for is somewhere in Catahoula County." Elva explained, feeling that the whole thing was rather self explanatory if the man would only take a moment to think. "He's a liar, and he drives a car."

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

Elva sighed, bordering on annoyance. "I don't know. You asked for my help, I gave you what I could. There's nothing more I can do."

Peter grudgingly accepted this and left after paying her fee. He had a funeral service to give for a man he had never cared for.

%%%

 _Now_

"What, am I supposed to skip out on work and tell Rowan she can't play with her friends until this is over?" Kim exclaimed later that night. "She's at a sleepover right now, Mere! Do you want me to go over to the Archer's and drag her out of Maddie's bedroom kicking and screaming because you think a _ghost_ is after us?"

"Not after _us_." Meredith corrected. " _Me_. She wants _me_ dead, Kim."

"As much as that sucks I don't see why I have to uproot my life for who knows how long and lock my daughter away like Rapunzel."

Meredith rolled her eyes in annoyance and frustration. "Because she's not gonna stop after I'm dead! You're next in line, Kim, and then Rowan. And who knows what she'll do to you if you get in her way? I don't want you to get hurt. I'm trying to protect my family, and this is the only way I know how."

"By inviting two strangers to move in for a while?" Kim shot back. "God, Mere, have you lost your mind? What do you even know about them?"

"They're not strangers, Kim. They were our neighbors."

"Yeah, before I was even born! They were _your_ neighbors, Meredith. When you were freaking _two years old_!" Kim shouted. "You haven't seen or heard anything from them since Mama and Daddy decided to move out here, and now you're just deciding to trust them because you hallucinated a ghost in your bedroom and remembered some lunatic thing our dead father used to say to our dead mother?"

"Well, maybe if Mama had listened to him Jason wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be in this mess right now!" Meredith said, placing the blame on their mother. "You're a grown woman, so I can't tell you what to do, and I have no control over Rowan because she's not my child, but this is _my_ house and _my_ life on the line right now. Sam and Dean are welcome to stay here as long as it takes to get rid of this bitch."

"So much for family." Kim said outright, looking directly into her sister's brown eyes.

Meredith's eyebrows went up. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You may be two years older than me, Mere, but I thought we were supposed to be a team. I thought we were supposed to make decisions together. You never even told me about this...this...whatever she is."

"God, Kim, do you even hear yourself right now?" Meredith countered. "Haven't you been listening? I had no idea what was going on until _last night_. I never saw her until _last night_. I called and asked Sam and Dean to come up here as soon as I realized what was going on, and I haven't even seen you today to even _try_ and tell you!"

"You're phone worked just fine when you called Dean."

"Right, so you would've preferred I'd called and told you I have some ectoplasmic retro bitch getting ready to mark my name off her dead pool over the phone?"

"No!"

"Then what was I supposed to do, Kim?"

Sam and Dean weren't quite sure what to do as they sat on the couch and watched the two sisters standing on the other side of the coffee table in the midst of one epic shouting match. The fight had suddenly come out of nowhere and they couldn't exactly escape to their room because the women were blocking the way.

"Ectoplasmic retro bitch." Dean said quietly, a look of approval on his face as he nodded slightly. "I'm gonna have to remember that one."

"Shouldn't we do something?" Sam asked, gesturing to the girls who were still going strong.

"You wanna get in the middle of that, go right ahead." Dean replied. "I'd leave if I didn't think it'd get me injured. They'll wear each other out eventually."

When they returned their attention back to the girls both Meredith and Kim were crying, and two seconds later they were both leaving the room. Meredith disappeared into her bedroom off the living room, slamming the door behind her, and it wasn't long before a second door slammed upstairs.

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered, and looked at his brother as he got up. "You take Little Sister, I got Big Sister."

"I don't think I want to mess with either of them right now." Sam admitted.

"Just watch what you say and stay out of slapping range."

 **And for those of you that haven't checked out the song, but are curious about the inspiration for this story, here are the lyrics to Maggie Rose's "Preacher's Daughter". I highly suggest you do check out the song though, because it's awesome. And so is the real story behind it.**

 **Pink blossoms on the Mimosa trees  
Katydids singing soft and sweet  
Sweat on his neck in the summer heat  
Kissin' the preacher's daughter**

 **Headlights flashing in their eyes  
The shadow of a face they recognized  
A single shot split the night  
Footsteps in muddy water**

 **And the sun came up like the day before  
And her sheets hadn't been turned down  
And the boy turned up downstream on the rocks  
Two miles outside of town  
She was leavin' church in a white sundress  
Last time anybody saw her  
Oh, what's become of the preacher's daughter**

 **One-eyed woman with her tarot cards  
Said she ain't comin' back but she ain't gone far  
The devil's a liar and he drives a car  
Somewhere in Catahoula County**

 **Then the sun came up like the day before  
And her sheets hadn't been turned down  
And the search dogs barked on the day they laid  
Her first love in the ground  
The preacher's knees buckled in the heat  
So the deacon took over  
And said "let us pray for the preacher's daughter"**

 **Blue lights flashin' on the riverbank  
They held their breath as they dragged the chains  
Hearts all sank when her beautiful face  
Came up out of the water**

 **Through her tangled hair they could see  
She was missing one earring  
Found the other in the back seat of the car  
Of the deacon that couldn't have her**

 **And the sun came up like the day before  
And her sheets hadn't been turned down  
When they slapped the cuffs on the deacon's wrists  
You could hear it all over town  
And the headlines read "Justice At Last  
Up From The Muddy Water...  
The Resurrection of the Preacher's Daughter"**

 **~SG**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, apparently this whole daily posting thing doesn't agree with me. Sorry about that. Things have been kind of crazy the last few days, but there's only two chapters left after this one so maybe it's a good thing I'm accidentally dragging it out. By the way, I just wrote the first chapter to the sequel, so hopefully it will turn out well and I can share it with y'all.**

 **Also, thanks to ArtistKurai for pointing out a few things I forgot to mention. Like the fact that I actually do know what all of these OCs look like. If you're like us you like to know that sort of thing, and I meant to include a cast list, but my brain's all over the place lately. So here it is now. Better late than never, right?**

 **Meredith – Nikki Reed**

 **Kim (who may accidentally end up being called Joanna at some point in this story since that was her original name) – Jenna Dewan Tatum**

 **Rowan (who really isn't in this story at all) – Nikki Hahn**

 **Aaron – Michael Malarkey**

 **Hanna – Crystal Reed**

 **Peter – Nolan North**

 **Elva Laroux – Claudia Black**

 **Clayton Marshall (coming soon to a chapter near you) – JR Bourne**

 ***Sheriff Joe was not cast because I didn't know he was going to be needed until I wrote that first scene with him and he didn't end up being a very big part of the story. Rowan was only cast because I thought she was going to be a bigger part of the story. I also thought the story was going to be a lot longer, so...yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! ~SG**

Chapter 5

"Go away, Kim." Meredith called in response to the knock on her door.

"It's not Kim." Dean said, pushing the door open without an invitation.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, no longer crying, but her face was still wet. Dean plucked a tissue from the box beside the bed and handed it to her. She ignored it, got up, and disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned a little while later, her face washed, her nose blown, and her eyes still troubled, she found him sprawled across her bed looking as if he felt very much at home there.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded lightly, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Dean smiled at her, his head pillowed in his hands, his legs crossed at the ankles. "Chillin'."

Meredith giggled and flopped down beside him, deciding that she liked him. "You're gonna try and cheer me up now, right?"

"Yep." he said.

A few moments passed and they simply laid there in silence, each of them on their backs staring up at the ceiling.

"I get it, you know." Dean finally said.

"Get what?" she asked, turning onto her side and propping her head in her hand, putting her weight on her elbow. "A ghost wanting to kill you? I figured it was usually the other way around for you."

"It is, but that's not what I meant." he replied. "I get wanting to protect your family in any way you can. For a long time protecting Sam was my one and only job. Dad would leave us in some flea bitten motel to go off to gank some monster, and every single time he left he made sure to remind me to take care of Sammy. Of course, after a while I didn't need to be reminded. It was second nature. Still is. Sam's my little brother, and I love him more than anything. I'd sell my soul to protect him. I did."

"Did what?"

"Sold my soul to save Sam."

Meredith's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Dean nodded. "Yes ma'am. Made a deal with a crossroads demon. Traded my soul for Sam's life and one year."

"What does that mean?" she asked curiously, never having heard of something like that actually happening.

"It means that when this year's up Sam gets to keep living his life however he wants, and I've got a one way ticket straight to Hell."

"You don't sound too upset about that." she observed.

"Sam died in my arms, so I did the only thing I knew to do." Dean said. "I found a way to bring him back, and while I can't say I'm anywhere near fond of the idea of going to Hell for all eternity I've resigned myself to the fact that I have no choice."

Neither one of them was really aware that he had reached out with one hand and was playing with the ends of her ponytail.

"You can't get out of it?"

"If I try, Sam dies."

"So, that's it then?" Meredith asked, and paused for a yawn. "You just go to Hell, and that's that?"

"Yep. And if I had the chance to do it over again I'd make the same choice." Dean said, slipping his arm around her as her eyes grew heavy, and shifting her so that her head was pillowed on his chest with his arm wrapped around her because he knew that she was scared and upset. Since when was he the gentle, comforting type? Maybe it had something to do with the sand running out of his hour glass. Maybe it had something to do with her. Maybe it was a little bit of both. "So, I get what you're feeling, Mere, I do. And you're doing the right thing. You're making sure your family is safe the only way you know how."

"Mmhm." she mumbled, and yawned again. "I'm gonna go to sleep now."

Dean thought that meant it was time for him to leave, but she closed her eyes and settled in, and was asleep before he knew it.

Dean smiled and was glad she apparently wasn't the kind of girl that made her bed every morning as he managed to pull the blankets over the both of them with one hand, wrapping his other arm a little tighter around her and shifting ever so slightly into a more comfortable position.

She shifted with him, snuggling closer, and Dean smiled. He brushed a loose lock of hair away from her face. "Sweet dreams, Mere. The ectoplasmic retro bitch can't hurt you tonight."

%%%

"You're sister's not crazy, Kim." Sam said, standing beside her at the rail of the balcony, looking down at the living room below. "You know that, right?"

Kim had washed her face and changed into her pajamas before coming out of her room to talk to Sam. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a quick, messy bun on top of her head, and her green eyes shifted to look up at him as she sighed. "What am I supposed to think? All my life I've been told that pretty much everyone in my family went crazy and killed themselves, and all of a sudden my sister starts talking about strange women showing up in her bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"Just one woman, actually." Sam corrected.

"It doesn't matter." Kim said. "I'm sure she saw whatever she saw, whether it was real or not. I'm not denying that. But a ghost?"

"They're real." Sam assured her. "Trust me. They're _very_ real."

"And you and your brother...you just travel around the country hunting them?"

Sam nodded. "And other things."

"What other things?"

"Demons, werewolves, vampires, the occasional pagan god."

"That's all real?" Kim asked, looking and sounding like she didn't want to believe it.

"Yep."

"And that's the life that you grew up in?"

"That fire that killed our mother? It was a demon that did that." Sam explained. "Dad wanted revenge, so he started hunting. He was after that demon, but he killed anything he came across on the way, and he taught me and Dean how to hunt too."

Kim tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "And you just kept going? Didn't you ever consider something else? A different life?"

"I hated my life." Sam said. "I hated moving around so much, I hated Dad being gone all the time, I hated never being able to make any real friends. All of it. So I left. I went to college, and I met a girl and fell in love. I was all set to go to law school, and then..."

Kim waited a moment and then prompted him to go on. "And then...?"

"And then Dean shows up one night and tells me Dad's gone missing." Sam said. "So, I agreed to help him look for a couple days. We killed a ghost, a Woman in White, but we didn't find Dad, so Dean took me home and was gonna go on without me."

"And yet here you are." Kim said. "What happened?"

"My girlfriend was killed the night I got back. The same way my mom died." Sam replied.

"And your dad hadn't killed the demon that killed your mom yet." she guessed.

Sam nodded. "And we still hadn't found Dad, so I got back in the Impala with Dean, and we just kept hunting. We found Dad, he died, _I_ died, Dean made a deal to bring me back, and then he killed the demon. And now, when this year is up, Dean'll go to Hell and I get to live a nice long life."

They were silent for a moment, staring down at the living room once more, and then Kim looked back up at him and shook her head slightly as she asked. "Why are you telling me all of this, Sam?"

"My brother did something really stupid, but he did it to save me. He's spent his entire life protecting me, and that's exactly what Meredith's trying to do for you." he explained. "She's the big sister, and you and your daughter are the only family she has left. If the ghost kills her, it'll come after you next. So, she called us to keep that from happening. Dean and Meredith are the same. They're only trying to protect us, which is what they've been doing all their lives. The only difference is that Dean was stupid and Meredith was smart. Dean never should've made that deal, but Meredith did the right thing by calling us."

"So...all the suicides in my family, all the insanity...none of it was real? They were all murders?"

"Looks like it."

"And you can stop it?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. We can stop it."

"In that case, I guess I have no choice but to trust you." she met his eyes. "Don't let anything happen to my sister."

"We won't." Sam promised.


	6. Chapter 6

**Only one chapter left after this! But don't worry. I've already planned out most of their lives, and have started writing the sequel that will hopefully (fingers crossed) turn out well enough to share with all of you. Now that I'm all caught up on the show I think I've worked out a plausible reunion plot, so hopefully that will be coming soon, and yes, I am still working on Rosewood Falls. I've just reached a bit of a difficult place here toward the end of the story, and I'm trying to figure out exactly how to tie it all up because I really didn't do a whole lot of planning and I have so many characters and storylines. So, please be patient with me on that one, and if you're waiting for updates to any of my other stories don't hold your breath. They may come, but it's not looking like it any time soon. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and thanks in advance for any reviews, follows, favorites, shares, etc. Y'all rock! ~SG**

Chapter 6

 _Then_

The day of Aaron Reeves' funeral had rolled around, and the entire town had turned out simply because the whole ordeal was such big news. Nothing like this had ever happened in Bristol Ridge before, and no one really knew how to handle it.

Aaron had been something of a celebrity due to his checkered, and admittedly interesting, history and good looks, and everyone was distraught over Hanna's disappearance. The police hadn't made a whole lot of headway finding the culprit, but Peter had shared Elva's revelations with his friend the sheriff, and although Joe wasn't quick to believe she could possibly know anything unless she was involved he was willing to jump on any lead.

Peter hadn't been surprised when Joe had sent a deputy to question Elva, but the deputy had been surprised to find that she was apparently innocent and had absolutely no connection to any of it other than her brief dealings with the preacher.

Thanks to Elva and her mysterious gift the only residents of Bristol Ridge that weren't' present at Aaron's funeral were the sheriff and his deputies. Instead they were combing the entire county with dogs, looking for any sign of Hanna's body.

It was hot, as it always was on any Southern summer day, and the service was held outdoors because at least half of Catahoula County was present and they couldn't all fit inside the little church. Peter was able to set his opinions of Aaron aside and do his job until the heat and his grief just became too much and his knees gave out.

He caught himself with his hands before he landed face first in the grass, and allowed a pair of deacons to help him to his feet and then to a chair. The rest of the service was given by his best friend, Deacon Clayton Marshall, and once Aaron was laid to rest Clayton held the congregation in the sun for a moment longer.

"Friends and neighbors," he said, his strong voice carrying over the crowd. "Please, bow your heads with me for a moment. Let us pray for the preacher's daughter. Let us pray that sweet Hanna Durant has found her way to Heaven where she belongs, and that the police are able to find the monster that committed these terrible crimes."

A couple of amens rose up from the crowd, and there was a long moment of silence from the audience as Clayton said a quick and eloquent prayer for Hanna. Peter was the only one that noticed that he didn't bother to add that maybe Elva was wrong and Hanna might still be alive.

While the large throng of people, many of whom had never even met her, prayed for poor Hanna's soul, a dog barked somewhere in the woods near the river, alerting a pair of deputies to a scrap of white fabric caught on the rotted branch of a fallen tree.

%%%

 _Now_

"Here's something." Sam announced as Kim set a fresh cup of coffee beside his laptop. He thanked her with a quick smile and shared his findings. "Meredith, you said she looked like she was from the thirties, so I did a search for girls in their late teens and early twenties that died around that time in this area, and I think I found our girl. Hanna Durant."

"Hanna Durant?" Kim repeated, sitting down at the table beside Sam and peering at the screen where several windows were open showing the information he had found. "Why do I know that name?"

"Not Hanna Durant." Meredith said. "Peter Durant. He's the man that killed our great-grandfather back in '41."

"He was also the local preacher." Sam said. "And Hanna's father."

"According to what I've always heard," Meredith said from her place leaning back against the island counter with Dean perched on a stool beside her. "Our great-grandfather, Clayton Marshall, and Peter Durant grew up together. They were best friends."

"So, what happened to make Pastor Pete want to kill his best friend?" Dean asked.

"Well," Sam said. "They weren't just life long best friends. Clayton was a deacon at the church, and Hanna's godfather."

"Well, that's great, but it doesn't tell us why Peter ganked him." Dean said.

Sam waved his hand in a gesture telling his brother to be patient. "Hanna and her boyfriend, Aaron Reeves, were both murdered in July of 1939, and their bodies were dumped in the river. Guess who killed them."

"Could it be Great-Grandpappy?" Dean guessed.

Sam nodded. "Yep."

The Fairchild sisters were silent, stunned at the revelation.

"I'm guessing that wasn't part of the family history that was passed down to you two." Dean said.

"No." Meredith confirmed. "We were always told it was a fight that got out of hand or something, that it was an accident."

"It wasn't an accident." Sam said. "It looks like Peter killed Clayton to get revenge for Hanna."

"And now Hanna's killing all of Clayton's descendants to avenge her own death?" Dean guessed.

"Looks like it." Sam confirmed.

"That would explain what she said to me the other night." Meredith said. "She's jealous that her life got cut short, but Clayton's family is still going strong."

"As strong as we can be with a ghost using us for target practice." Kim added, dryly.

"Any idea where she's buried, Sammy?"

"Not yet, but I'm still looking."

"She should be buried in the cemetery at the old church." Kim said.

Dean looked down at Meredith. "Wanna come with me to check, and then Sam and I can go back tonight and burn her?"

Meredith shrugged. "Sure. What girl doesn't love a mid-day stroll through a graveyard?"

Dean smiled at her sarcasm. "Then what are we waiting for, sweetheart?"

"Why does Meredith need to go?" Kim asked, worried about her sister. "Can you not read?"

"I can read just fine." Dean assured her. "But if she stays here then Sam has two of you to protect. This way we each only have to worry about one of you."

"What about Rowan?"

"Hanna's going by birth order." Meredith reminded her little sister. "She still has to take out the two of us before she'll go after Rowan."

"And if this is something she wants to keep going she's not gonna touch Rowan until there's another generation of Marshalls to kill." Sam added.

"What if she doesn't want to keep it going? What if she wants to end it now?"

"Then she still has to get through you and your sister." Dean said. "And to get to either one of you she'll have to go through me and Sam. We've got salt lines down at every entrance to this house." He pulled a gun from his waistband, causing both sisters' eyes to widen. "And I'm a great shot."

"You don't have anything to worry about." Sam said. "If you're that worried about your daughter we can go pick her up right now. I can keep an eye on both of you."

Kim nodded. "Yeah. I like that idea."

Sam and Dean made sure their guns were properly loaded with rock salt and that all the salt lines around the house were still in tact, and then the four of them left the house. Meredith followed Dean to the Impala to go check for Hanna at the cemetery, and Sam slid into the passenger seat of Kim's car to go pick up Rowan from the Archer's house.

"You're holding up pretty well for someone that's got a vengeful spirit on her tail." Dean said. "Especially since you know what she's capable of."

Meredith understood that he was alluding to the fact that she had been the one to discover both her father and brother's bodies after Hanna had gotten her cold, dead hands on them. "She shot them both straight through the heart after clawing their faces to shreds. I was seven when I found my dad, seventeen when I found Jason."

"Wait, so...their faces were shredded, and people still thought it was suicide?" Dean asked.

"Mentally unstable people don't usually follow the rules, Dean." she reminded them. "Most people that shoot themselves, shoot themselves in the head. Not the heart. But there weren't any signs of foul play, and most people aren't going to automatically assume a ghost did it. I would've thought I was going crazy too except for the fact that Jason told me about seeing Hanna before she killed him. That's the only reason I called you instead of checking myself into a hospital."

Dean nodded. "I wonder why Clayton killed Hanna."

"I'll be sure to ask her the next time I see her." Meredith retorted.

%%%

 _Then_

"She was mine!" Clayton screamed as they cuffed him and dragged him toward the backseat of the police car. "He had no right to touch her! She was unfaithful! She sinned! The dirty little whore was running around on me with that scoundrel!"

Peter simply stared at his best friend in shock. He heard what Clayton was saying, but he wasn't sure what to make of it.

The scrap of fabric had turned out to be part of the dress Hanna had worn the day she and Aaron had died, and it was close enough to the river for the police to assume her body had been dumped there as well. The town was devastated as the news that she had been found circulated. Her body had gotten caught on a rock a few miles downstream from where she had been dumped in the water, and it hadn't taken long for them to pull her up when they dragged the river. She was missing an earring, and the search for it led them to the backseat of Clayton Marshall's car.

Elva Laroux had been right. The devil certainly was a liar.


	7. Chapter 7

**The final chapter. But don't worry. There's more to come. Thank you guys so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following this story. A special thanks to ArtistKurai for being so inquisitive. I hope y'all enjoy this last chapter, and hopefully I'll have the next installment ready for you soon. And keep your eyes peeled for Rosewood Falls updates! It's slow going, but it is going. I promise. ~SG**

Chapter 7

 _Now_

"How often do you and Sam actually do this?" Meredith asked as she tossed a shovelful of dirt onto the growing pile behind her.

They had found Hanna in the old graveyard, and after Meredith had seen her peeking in a window back at the house Sam had decided to stay behind with Kim and Rowan while Meredith helped Dean burn Hanna's bones. This way it would be easier for Sam and Dean to protect the Fairchilds as it had been earlier, and Meredith's presence at the graveyard would draw Hanna away from the house. Dean would have to be a bit more vigilant, but Sam wouldn't have to worry quite so much. Of course, Kim was probably worried enough for the both of them what with her sister essentially making herself ghost bait, but Dean was impressed with Meredith's apparently endless supply of bravery.

He knew she was scared, and as he looked at her in the light of the electric lantern they had brought to see by he could see it on her face. "Too many times to keep count." he replied as he turned his attention back to digging. "How are you holding up over there?"

"I'm fine." she said quickly.

"That's a lie." Dean said, calling her out.

Meredith paused for a moment and stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"If you can't admit that you're scared when you're digging up a grave in the middle of the night because a ghost is entertaining herself by picking off your family members one by one, and you're next on her list, when can you?"

Meredith sighed. "Of course I'm scared, but what good is giving in to it gonna do?"

Dean paused for a moment to smile at her. "You're pretty amazing. You know that?"

Meredith smiled back. "Thanks."

As soon as the word was out of her mouth it was followed by a scream as Hanna appeared behind her and yanked her out of the knee deep hole.

"Dean!" she screamed as Hanna pinned her to the ground.

"It's not fair!" Hanna shouted and swiped her nails across Meredith's face, leaving scratches across her cheek that immediately began to bleed. "Why do you get to live, and I don't?"

"Dean!"

"Hey!" Dean shouted, drawing Hanna's attention away before she could inflict further damage. "Get away from her, bitch!"

A shot rang out through the night and Hanna disappeared.

Meredith was breathing hard from fear as Dean ran over and helped her up.

"You okay?" he asked, noting the scratches on her face. They didn't look too deep. He could fix them up easy.

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

She put her hand to her face, trying to stop the bleeding though it wasn't all that bad, and Dean glanced around to make sure there was no one else around. Someone might have heard the shot and come to investigate, or Hanna could come back to finish what she had started.

Dean handed Meredith the shot gun. "Can you shoot?"

"No, but how hard can it be?" she replied.

He admired her confidence and gave her a quick tutorial on how to operate the weapon he had just thrust into her hands. "I'm gonna keep digging. If you see her, shoot her."

Meredith nodded, and wasn't surprised when she had to fire off two more shots to keep an increasingly angry Hanna at bay while Dean continued digging.

Finally, she heard the hollow sound of the shovel hitting Hanna's coffin and it wasn't long before Dean had the lid pried open. He climbed out of the grave and she moved to stand beside him, doing her best not to look down, as he poured salt on what was left of Hanna Durant.

Hanna showed up again, just across the open grave, and Meredith shot her once more as Dean poured in the accelerate. He lit a match, but didn't have time to toss it in before a fifth shot split the night. Meredith crumpled beside him, dropping the shotgun, and fell sideways into the hole.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, putting out the match and jumping back into the grave.

Luckily Hanna's aim had been off and Meredith had taken a bullet to the shoulder and not the heart. Dean hauled her out of the grave and laid her in the grass, quickly lighting another match and tossing it in as Hanna took aim again.

Meredith watched as the young woman with murder in her eyes screamed in pain and went up in flames as the fire ate at the remains in the coffin.

Once Hanna was gone Dean crouched beside Meredith and helped her put her arm around his neck. "Hang on, sweetheart. I'm gonna get you tot he hospital." he said as he lifted her off the ground and hurried back to the Impala, leaving behind the lantern and shovels and an open grave. He carefully put her in the car, peeling off the flannel shirt it was too hot to be wearing anyway, and pressing it to the bleeding bullet wound. "Hold that on there, okay?"

Meredith nodded and Dean slammed the door shut, taking a shortcut to the driver's side by doing a hood slide across the Impala that would've made Bo Duke proud, only to loose his footing and land on his face in the grass. When he finally got into the car Meredith was laughing at him.

"Graceful." she teased.

"Shut up." he shot back, sounding more playful than he felt.

As he sped toward the hospital he called Sam. "Hanna's dust." he said. "But she got off a shot before I could torch her, so I'm headed to the hospital with Meredith. I need you to go clean up the mess we made."

"Is she okay?" Sam demanded, obviously meaning Meredith.

"She's got a couple of scratches, and what looks like a through and through in her shoulder." Dean explained as he glanced over at her. She had put his shirt behind her in an attempt to keep from bleeding on his seats, and was holding her hand over the entrance wound, blood seeping through her fingers. "Stay with me, Mere."

"I'm fine, Dean. Just _drive_!" she ordered.

Dean wrapped up his call with Sam and floored it. Her niece was best friends with the current sheriff's daughter, so he wasn't all that worried about getting a ticket. Actually, he wasn't worried about getting a ticket at all. He was worried about getting Meredith to the hospital.

%%%

When she woke up her shoulder hurt and her face felt like she had something stuck to it. It took a moment, but she finally remembered what had happened. Hanna Durant's ghost had tried to kill her tonight. The something stuck to her face was a bandage covering the scratches from Hanna's nails, and her shoulder hurt because she had been shot with a very real bullet.

She groaned in pain when she tried to move just a little bit so she could look around, and drew Dean's attention. He had been dosing off in a chair beside her hospital bed, but snapped back to attention the instant he realized she was awake. "Hey. How you feelin'?"

"Ouch." she groaned.

Dean flashed her a half smile and pressed the call button. "Yeah, I bet."

"Can I help you, Ms. Fairchild?" a nurse's voice crackled over the speaker a few moments later.

"Yeah, can we get a nurse in here with some pain meds?" Dean requested.

"Give me just a moment, and we'll get get that taken care of." the nurse replied.

"Thank you." Dean said, and turned his attention back to the woman in the bed. "Other than ouch, how are you feeling?"

Meredith would have shrugged, but she didn't think that was a good idea right now, so she just sighed and smiled at him, reaching for his hand. "Grateful. Thank you."

Dean shrugged it off. "Just doin' my job."

"That may be, but you still saved my life tonight, Dean." she said as a small, bubbly looking blonde nurse came in. "I'd kiss you right now if I could sit up."

Dean glanced at the nurse and then back at Meredith. "Are you talking to me or her?"

"I meant you, but we'll see how I feel once she gives me those meds." Meredith joked.

The nurse, Carly, smiled, revealing dimples and perfect white teeth. Her hair was a mass of wild blonde curls, and when she spoke her voice was high pitched, but not unpleasantly so, and very Southern. She asked Meredith to rate her pain and then injected the medication into the IV line that ran into the crook of Meredith's elbow on her good arm, the one whose hand was still holding Dean's.

"You oughta feel better in no time." Carly said. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Can I have some water?" Meredith asked.

"Sure thing. I'll be right back."

When Carly left Meredith turned back to Dean. "Did you call Kim?"

Dean nodded. "Yep. I told her you're gonna be just fine, and Sam took care of the grave for us, so we don't have to worry about that."

"And Hanna's really gone for good?"

"She should be." Dean said. "We'll stick around a few more days until we're sure though. If that's okay with you."

"That's fine with me." she assured him. "In fact, you and Sam are welcome in my house any time."

Carly returned with the water, checked Meredith's vitals, and then left them alone, commenting to the nurse at the desk on what a cute couple they made.

"I'll take that kiss now, if you were serious." Dean said, expecting to be turned down because he didn't really think she had been serious.

She smiled at him. "You're gonna have to come over here, Romeo."

Dean, thinking she was still joking, played along and moved closer, pleasantly surprised when he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." she said again, all joking aside.

"You're welcome." Dean replied, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

She took a couple of sips of water, and then closed her eyes and fell asleep. Dean took her hand again simply because he could, and held it while she slept, thinking that he was glad he had gotten this chance to reconnect with his childhood playmate even though the circumstances weren't exactly ideal. He was going to Hell soon, and this was a sweet memory he could hold on to. Maybe it would help him stay more human and less demon.

%%%

"The resurrection of the preacher's daughter." Sam read aloud at the breakfast table the day after Meredith had been released from the hospital and had gotten a good night's sleep with no threat of being murdered, and Dean filling the usually empty half of her bed.

The four adults all noted the irony of the old news article he had stumbled across, but Rowan didn't seen to care. She was only six and was way more interested in filling every square of her waffle with maple syrup than she was with whatever her mom and aunt and their friends were talking about.

The article recapped the whole ordeal, explaining how Clayton Marshall had actually been insane, and had somehow come to believe that his god-daughter was in love with him. She hadn't been, of course, and according to every report they could find she had been madly in love with Aaron Reeves, a drifter from London by way of the entire Eastern seaboard. In his delusional state Clayton had perceived her relationship with Aaron as unfaithfulness, and had let his mind get the best of him. Any mention of Elva Laroux had been left out, and there had only been vague details on how the police had found Hanna's body and figured out who was to blame.

A second article reported that Clayton had somehow escaped and Peter had hunted him down and killed him.

%%%

Two days later it was clear that Hanna was never coming back and the Fairchild family was safe. Sam and Dean had found another case, and Kim had already left for work, so Meredith, her injured arm in a sling, walked them out to the Impala to say good-bye.

"Thank you both for everything." she said earnestly, but both men brushed it off as no big deal. She understood that it was an everyday thing for them, but for her it had literally been life or death, and they had saved her and her family. "Come see us next time you're in the area." she said, standing on her toes to give Sam a one-armed hug. "I mean it."

"We will." Sam promised.

No one commented on the fact that it would probably only be Sam that stopped by if he was ever in the area. Meredith knew she would probably never see the older Winchester brother again, and she was sad about that as Sam went around and got in the car. She really did like him, and she wished she had more time to get to know him.

Because of that she didn't give him a hug like she had Sam. Instead she gave him a kiss. A real kiss. A long kiss.

"Wow." Dean said, when they finally broke apart. "What was that for?"

"It was a thank you for saving my life." she said. "I don't think I'm ever gonna see you again, so why not?"

Dean smiled. "Can't argue with that logic."

Sam rolled his eyes in the passenger seat as Dean leaned down and gave her another kiss. "Come on, Dean." he called. "That demon in Peoria isn't doing to exorcise itself."

Dean stole one more kiss, and Meredith stood in the driveway until the black car had disappeared from her field of vision.


End file.
